


It Ain't Me Babe

by stevieraebarnes



Series: Don't Take Your Guns to Bed [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Backstory, Bat Family, Concerned Bruce, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Language, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, POV Outsider, Prequel, Tim Drake is a Good Brother, or is it???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 17:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13595145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevieraebarnes/pseuds/stevieraebarnes
Summary: In which Dick contemplates a better life for Jason; Jason makes an unusual decision; and Tim bears witness to how the Graysons of _We Didn't Give You Permission to Leave Us_ came to be.





	It Ain't Me Babe

**Author's Note:**

> Song and lyrics of "It Ain't Me Babe" by Bob Dylan. Performance in my head while writing this by Johnny Cash and June Carter.
> 
> Rabble, rabble, my obligatory DC cherry picking warning...
> 
> This is a prequel to Parts 1 & 3 of this series.

_Go away from my window_

_Leave at your own chosen speed_

_I'm not the one you want, babe_

_I'm not the one you need_

 

Dick opened up the manhole cover in the side alley of GCPD, lowered himself until he found the handhelds along the side, and replaced the cover to avoid suspicion. He walked along the sewer line until he found the doors and pushed them open.

A large, expansive bunker greeted him. The entire room was mostly unfurnished except for a workspace and chair in front of him, with dozens of monitors arranged like a MoMA display. All of the monitors were off, though he could hear the hum of electronics and cooling towers. Everything seemed operational.

Dick moved towards the back where he knew the bedroom to be. He passed the long, low bookshelf, elegantly filled with philosophical classics. The top of the shelving unit showcased two trinkets: a picture frame and the left front Batmobile tire and wheel. He moved past, coming to the open doorway of the bedroom, and gave a soft knock on the frame.

“Jason? It’s me, Dick. I’m coming in.”

Dick heard a grunt from the bed and moved closer to inspect the large lump under the covers. He could see Jason’s face resting on the pillow, his body swabbed in a large down comforter. His eyes were closed, but he looked distressed and his face was flushed with heat.

Dick sat down on the bed and placed a hand on his forehead.

“Jesus, Jay. You’re burning up.”

Jason shuddered, then started to squirm.

“Hey, Jason. Wake up.”

Jason opened his eyes and peered uncertainly at the man looming over him.

“What the fuck?”

“It’s just me, Jay.”

“Dick? What are you doing here?”

“You were supposed to be my patrol buddy tonight.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry.”

“I couldn’t reach you. I got worried. We were supposed to take out the Ice Lounge operations and have manly chats. You know, the ones that embarrass Tim and Dami.”

Jason gave a weak laugh. “Yeah, I’m sorry to miss that.” He struggled to sit up, and when Dick offered out his hand, he grabbed it and accepted the help. He noticed Dick was in his Nightwing outfit and had a faint brush of fine black dust smeared on the side of his face.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked. “Did you still take on the operation?”

“Am I okay??? Jay, you’re sick. You should’ve called. And yes, take down was successful. I’m fine.”

“I don’t call people, you know that. Plus, I think I’ve been passed out for awhile.”

“Yeah, I noticed that you have a fever. You think you just caught a regular virus?”

“I think so. But since you’re here, you mind checking this stab wound I got a few days ago? Make sure it’s not infected?”

Dick tried not to sigh too loud. Of course Jason doesn’t just have a fever. He’s got a stab wound as well. And he’s trying to just sleep it off.

It took Jason forever to roll over and when finished, he laid on his stomach expectant.

“Where, Jay?” Dick asked.

Jason crooked an elbow to point to his right hip.

Dick lifted Jason’s shirt a bit to find clean gauze taped to the lower right side of his back. He looked away for a second to find the lamp on the bedside.

“Close your eyes. I’m turning the light on.”

In the light, Dick peeled off the bandage and inspected the wound. The gauze showed signs that the wound had been smeared with a medicated cream. The stab wound was small in size, not needing stitches or glue, but was dressed in butterfly bandages and looked fairly healthy. The skin was hydrated and clean with no signs of infection.

“It looks fine. What are your symptoms?” Dick replaced the gauze on Jason’s back and pulled down his shirt.

“Just my head. And it’s hard to get warm.”

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Dick pulled the comforter back over Jason and walked out of the bedroom. He made his way to a small kitchen area off the other side of the bunker. He grabbed a glass from the open shelf and filled it with water. On another shelf he spotted some pantry items. He dug through until he found a box of crackers and grabbed those.

Back in Jason’s room, he put the water and crackers on the nightstand.

“I need you to sit up again.”

“Nnmff,” Jason said into the pillow.

Dick grabbed one side of Jason with both arms and pulled, manhandling him to flip over.

“Okay, okay,” Jason grumbled. “Just stop.”

Dick let go and watched Jason pathetically attempt an upright position again. He gave Jason to the count of five and then climbed up onto the bed. Careful not to knee him, he leaned over Jason’s form and wrapped his arms around him, placing his hands on Jason’s back beneath his shoulder blades. Then he pulled him up and to himself to help Jason’s momentum.

Jason found himself sitting and nose-to-nose with Dick, who was straddling his lap, hands still resting on his back.

“Huh,” Jason said. “Didn’t think you cared, Dickie.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at Jason and shook his head.

“Don’t even say that. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care. I’ve always cared.” Dick swung off the bed and grabbed the box of crackers.

“Liar,” Jason said.

Dick opened the box and pulled out a packet. Whole wheat with sesame seeds. Not Dick’s favorite.

“Well, it’s not a lie these days. I like to think I’ve matured since I first met you. Now eat some of these health crackers while I find your first aid kit.”

“In the bathroom linen closet. And these are just regular crackers. Nothing weird about them. I thought you just said you’d matured?”

“What’s wrong with good ol’ saltines? And ‘linen closet?' Your bunker’s so fancy!”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“You know I like you’re bunker, Jay. Pretty jealous actually.”

“Why? You’re not the one with revoked Bat privileges.”

“Yeah, but Bat privileges come with Bat rules. Plus the commute,” he said with a grin.

He moved away from the bedside through a side door in the room and found himself in the bathroom. Dick pulled out the med kit and rifled though it. He found two different anti-inflammatory medications and tipped out one of each from their bottles.

Dick came back to Jason’s bed, pills in hand.

“Did you eat some crackers?”

“Yeah, I had a couple.”

Jason’s skin looked like pale wax except for the apples of his cheeks, which were flushed pink.

“Good. I don’t want you taking these on an empty stomach.”

Dick passed Jason the meds and the glass of water, then grabbed the crackers and put them back in the box. He watched Jason swallow and took the glass back when he offered it, taking a sip himself before adding to the collection he’d started on the nightstand.

“Dumbass, that’s how you catch whatever I have,” Jason said, closing his eyes.

“Oh, it usually takes several encounters to actually catch.”

“Fine. But you can’t blame me if you get it.” Jason slid down the bed, getting into a more comfortable position. He shivered.

“You got any more blankets in here?”

“Check the bottom drawer in the dresser.”

Dick walked to the dresser and pulled out a large knitted blanket then draped it over Jason. Then he moved to the other side of the bed and Dick laid down on top of the covers.

“Jay, what would you have done if you’d been severely wounded?”

Jason was quiet for a bit, then slowly said, “Got you or Alfred to patch me up.”

“You’d come to the manor?”

“No. I’d make you bring him to me.”

“But what if it was something really serious.”

“Then I’d go see Leslie.”

“But she’s an internist.”

“Yeah, internal medicine. Knows a lot about everything. Good for us vigilantes.”

“But she’s not a surgeon. And she won’t be around forever.”

“Well, I’ll deal with that when it comes up. Just let me sleep.”

“You can’t go to a hospital, can you, Jay. They’d take your helmet off. Your false identities would be compromised.”

Jason said nothing.

“It’s like you’re a walking ghost. You’re here, but there’s no record of you. Nothing to stop you from just packing up and leaving.”

Dick continued to lie there, and when Jason still didn’t say anything, he looked over at the man next to him. He was curled up towards Dick and his face was relaxed in sleep. Dick smiled to himself, content that at least for now, Jason wasn’t going anywhere.

 

* * *

 

_To protect you and defend you_

_Whether you are right or wrong_

 

Tim sat at the Bat Cave’s workspace, where he was currently remoting into the GCPD’s shared file network, when he heard Dick land off to his right. The man moved closer to Tim, placing a hand on the table top, his eyes looking in the direction of the monitors, but not absorbing any of the information. Tim continued.

“Where’s B?” Dick asked after a few minutes.

“Out on a mission with Selina.”

“Oh.”

Tim looked at Dick from the corner of his eye and saw that Dick’s face was drawn and there was a slight frown. He filed that information away for later and turned his attention back to the screens in front of him.

Tim continued to sift through files stored on the GCPD’s server, wondering if their samples would match his. He had the gas phase chromatography results for the blood sample, but he also had some saliva from the crime scene. He thought about maybe using the Cave’s analysis equipment, especially the ICP, but then realized that due to the elementals he was tracing, he’d have to use Hydrofluoric Acid to digest the sample. Nasty stuff. Just because Tim flew rooftop to rooftop taking down criminals, that didn’t mean he had a death wish. He began to wonder how many layers of gloves and lab coats he’d need to use as protection if he did use the HF. Plus, he’d need to move to the fume hood to prepare the samples. His brain wandered.

Tim stood up, but didn’t move toward the fume hood; he instead abandoned the monitors for the stairs. Dick followed him, up the stairs, past the clock, and into the manor. Tim made his way to the kitchen, finding his cup where he’d last set it down, and stepped in front of the coffee pot.

He’d made the pot a few hours ago and there was at least a full cup left. Tim squinted at the pot: there was a cup and a half left. Tim shook his head in aggravation for coffee drinking etiquette.

“Who drinks only half a cup of coffee?” Tim said aloud.

“Maybe someone who likes lots of milk and sugar in their cup?” Dick answered.

Tim looked at him. Dick was leaning back against the kitchen island, arms folded over his chest. Then Tim looked to the sink and found another cup at the bottom of an otherwise very empty, and very clean basin.

“How long have you been here, Dick?”

“Awhile.”

Tim poured his cup of coffee and took a sip.

“What’s wrong?”

Dick tilted his head to the side, thinking.

“How would you get someone into the system who’s not already in it?” Dick asked.

“Uh…”

“I mean, they’re a ghost. No records. No ID. Nothing. How would you go about legitimizing someone like that?”

“Well…” Tim took another sip of coffee and gave it some thought. “You’d need to leave a paper trail for the fake IDs to fall back on. That should be fairly easy to plant. You’d need to construct some kind of past history, preferably at a place with a lot of turnover. This is if you want to do it proper,” Tim added. “You probably don’t want to go international because then multiple agencies could get involved, plus other reasons that I’ll get into.”

“I need, like, quick and easy, Tim.”

Tim stared at him, working out some of the clues Dick was providing him.

“Okay. With a sketchy past, applying for an ID or using a legit ID with a false name would take a lot of work to actually become a new person in the system. You could start with trying to get a credit card, but with only a name and an address, it will probably only be the high interest rate cards that come calling.

“But the best and easiest way to merge a name and a face is with a marriage certificate. Plant some documents at one of the orphanages to explain the lack of family history, get a state photo ID, take out a license, forge some more documents if you have to, present the license to the courthouse for an officiate to sign, and then the person’s legal. They’re also legally bound to the person they married though,” Tim added as an afterthought. He tapped a finger against the coffee cup. Dick looked like he might have been sorry he asked.

“And don’t worry about having less rights; same-sex marriages have all the same benefits, except for in cases where a spouse is not a US citizen. Then systemic prejudice can be used in extradition. That’s why I don’t think you should go with an international backstory. I mean, I know the Bowery can _seem_ worlds away, but it is thankfully here in Gotham.”

Dick looked at Tim and Tim looked right back. They stared at each other for a bit until Tim broke the silence.

“He won’t do it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“There are other ways,” Tim offered.

“I want him to have what the rest of us have. I want to make him family.”

“He is family, Dick.”

“No, see, those are just words, Tim. They’re just broken promises to him. He’s had too many of those already. He’s doing everything by himself. He has no support. And since he got out of crime, I don’t think he’s bringing in much of an income.”

“Yeah, okay, but actually telling him you want to make him family,” Tim gestured to the kitchen and beyond, “ _this family_? That might actually be a deal breaker for him. You’re probably better off telling him that you want the two of you to be your own family.”

Dick stood there in thought for a moment, considering.

“I’m crazy, aren’t I?” he said finally to Tim.

“You care,” Tim responded. “And you’ve always been prone to creative ideas.”

Dick laughed. “That’s my favorite euphemism for crazy.” He looked down at the floor. “I was at his place before I came here. He’s in bed with a fever; that’s why he wasn’t out with me tonight. But he wasn’t sure if it was just a mild virus or the flu or an infection from a stab wound.” Dick took a breath. “He’s fine, now,” Dick said, registering the look on Tim’s face. “He’s sleeping. I just, I just want him to have a bit of security. I want him to be able to go to the doctors as a normal person for checkups. I want him to know that if he needs to talk about anything, he can talk to me. And I want him to know that none of it comes from Bruce.”

Tim thought some of it sounded like a bit of a stretch to the man in question caring about any of it, but he didn’t say that. He knew what Dick wanted. “Well, I’ll help you. But only if Jason’s a willing participant.”

“Thanks, Tim.”

“This has been a weird conversation. Aren’t the weird conversations the ones that you save for Jay anyways?” Tim asked with a smile.

“Not if he’s the subject matter. And we talk about all kinds of stuff! Not just weird stuff! But yeah, I’m not fond of talking about some things with you or Dami.”

“You do know that I’m an adult, right?”

“Yeah. But you’re my little brother, too.”

Tim looked at Dick for a moment before diving in. “Did you ever consider Jason your little brother?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. He was an annoyance. And then he was someone who needed saving from Bruce every once in a while. And then he was dead.”

“I dunno, Dick. Being dead is working out pretty well for him. He can come and go as he pleases. No strings attached.”

“No, see, all he’d be doing is legitimizing an alias. But it wouldn’t be Jason. It’s just another disguise for him: one with access through official channels. We’ll make sure his appearance is altered for the ID.”

Tim took another sip of coffee and watched Dick, watched his body language. Something was off. It almost felt like Dick wasn’t being completely honest, or like he was trying to convince himself of something he had no control over. No surprise there when it came to Jason.

“He won’t do it,” Tim said again.

Dick took in Tim’s words, gave a nod, and walked out of the kitchen; hands shoved into his pockets, and shoulders tense. Tim watched him go, still drinking his coffee, and wondered what else was going on.

 

* * *

 

 

_You say you’re looking for someone_

_Who will promise never to part_

 

Jason spotted Dick on the rooftop as he headed back to his base of operations.

It had been a couple of weeks since they’d seen each other; Dick had stopped by a few times while Jason had been sick, then made back for Blüdhaven once his fever was gone. He kept moving, ignoring Dick and the way he dropped in behind him, tailing him into his home beneath the Gotham police station. He removed the manhole, left it open for Nightwing, and traveled on through the tunnel and pushing through the doors at the end.

He took off his Red Hood helmet, placed it on the bookshelf next to the picture frame and wheel, and moved into his bedroom. He unclipped his holsters, placing them in his closet armory, and heard the bunker doors open and close. Jason continued his routine: he hung up his jacket and armored shirt. He unlaced his boots and toed them off. Folded his pants. Socks and boxer briefs went into laundry, then he fished out the cup protector of the underwear pocket from the laundry. Just another day of vigilantism.

He walked into the bathroom for a shower, figuring he’d let Dick stew in his thoughts for a bit while Jason washed off the sweat and grime. When he came out of the shower to put some clothes on and finally see what Dick was at his bunker for, he instead found Dick sitting on his bed with a book in hand: _Little Dorrit_. Jason continued anyways and grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to pull on. He climbed onto his bed and gave Dick a nudge.

“Why are you here?” Jason asked, his voice gruff and tired.

Dick closed the book and put it on the bed. His hand clenched and unclenched. He was nervous. Jason wondered if he should be worried. He began to worry.

“Jay,” Dick said, “what do you think about, like, health insurance?”

“Uh…” _What?_

“Or, what about going out in the middle of the day and having real proof of identification in case anything happened?”

“I’m not following, Dickie.”

“I have a full life insurance policy through work,” Dick said instead. “If something happens to me, I want you to be the beneficiary. It’s a good one, through the police department. Whole life, not partial. Pays out more.”

“Dick. What the hell is going on?”

“I’d like to share assets with you that don’t involve B.”

“You want to share assets,” Jason said slowly, unbelieving. “Did you bring the Nightwing corporate papers to sign? Are you proposing a merger?” Jason laughed.

“Well, maybe.”

Jason looked at Dick, confused, and unsure where this was heading.

“How do you feel about a civil union?” Dick asked.

Jason’s confused look on his face turned incredulous. Then he mentally shook himself.

“Ah, I don’t know, Dickie. Always pictured a big Catholic wedding myself. Lots of flowers.”

_Did Dick just say what I thought he said???_

“Jay, I’m serious. We could get married.”

_Jesus Christ, he’s not kidding._

“That’s not very romantic. Plus, why would I do something like that? Why would I want to give up my anonymity?”

_For a claim on Dick Grayson…to have something no one else has…_

“It’s just a thought. That, uh, you might want to have a legit alias. One in the system. I thought it might prove helpful. And I do want you as a beneficiary. Tim and Damian are fine. And I know you won’t touch B’s money.”

“I wouldn’t say no to one of his vehicles,” Jason grinned.

Dick smiled at him and then looked at his lap for a few seconds. “I guess I just wanted to do something with you. Just you,” he said quietly.

They were both quiet for a while.

“It would be nice to have medical professionals be able to mend any broken bones,” Jason offered.

_It didn’t matter. If it ever got bad enough that he was put in a hospital, he’d cut and run…although that would leave a burden on the people of Gotham…_

“Yeah?” Dick looked hopeful.

“Let me think about it,” Jason said. Then, “But, I’ll only let you down… Dick, I don’t think it’s me you’re looking for.”

“Shouldn’t there be a ‘babe’ at the end of that stanza?” Dick added.

Jason smiled.

 

* * *

 

_Go lightly from the ledge, babe_

_Go lightly on the ground_

 

Tim landed on the Gotham rooftop of a beautiful stone building. It wasn’t the tallest skyline at only five stories, but it was one of Tim’s favorites. The building had kept its original art deco design that always made Gotham feel like home to Tim. He took in the sights: the city lights in the night sky, the Gotham bay churning in the background. He walked to the edge of the roof and peered over the ledge, watching the streets. They were mostly empty, which was normal considering the late hour, but not completely.

While there was no view from street level, Tim could see an alleyway across the street. In full regalia, Nightwing and Red Hood sat on the ground side by side with their backs against the exterior wall. They appeared to be talking, but Tim didn’t know what about. He manipulated the lenses on his domino for a better look. The two vigilantes looked calm and serious. They seemed to take turns speaking, mostly looking ahead at the other building’s exterior in front of them or down at their laps. Red Hood wasn’t gesticulating so he didn’t seem to be mad.

Tim heard the sound of light footsteps drop onto the rooftop and pad towards him. He turned to face Damian.

“Robin,” he greeted. “Finished with patrol?”

“Yes. You? What were you watching?”

“Just making sure nothing got by me before I head back for the night. I need to get some sleep before the board meeting at noon. Oh, and I found a couple buildings that aren’t grapple friendly.”

“I will wait for you to make sense, Red Robin.”

Tim pointed to a building a few blocks down the city center. “See the railings along the rooftop that we like to use? They’ve been coated in that anti-piracy marine vessel paint. My grapple gun couldn’t catch.”

“That’s why father embedded iron rings in buildings throughout the city.”

“Yeah, but still. It was pretty alarming.”

Damian moved to the edge of the building and looked over. Then he reared back at Tim.

“You liar! You weren’t watching for criminal activity! You were spying on them!” He motioned to Dick and Jason across the street, still in conversation. “What are they doing? Why are they just sitting there?” He leaned forward as if trying for a closer look. “Why are they sitting so close to each other?”

Tim just groaned.

“Answer me, Red Robin. I demand you tell me what is going on.”

“You can’t demand _anything_ of me, Robin. Besides, I have no idea.”

“They’re not punching each other. This is worrisome.”

“What?? They don’t punch each other anymore. Not for a long time.”

“Tch,” Damian said, with probably an eye roll.

The two birds leaned against the ledge, watching.

“This is very bizarre,” Damian said. “They look so serious.”

“Yeah.”

“If you know anything, Red Robin…”

Tim sighed. “There’s been concern over some members of the family being left out.”

Damian stared at Tim. “What?”

“And there were some other things mentioned…”

“What things?”

“Like insurance stuff. You know medical…life…”

Damian shifted his look from Tim to the pair in the alley.

“He is such an idiot,” Damian decided.

“N?” Tim guessed.

“Red Hood is already an idiot, but yes. N.”

They continued to watch when the rooftop access door opened and a tall, thickly muscled man swaggered towards them.

“This is private property,” the man said with a grin.

“Well, we’ll be on our way then,” Tim said.

“Tch,” Damian said again.

“You know,” the man said, “this building belongs to Roman Sionis. And he’s not too keen on little birdies nesting up here.”

“I’d love to hear from the man himself,” Damian said. “Where is he these days? Found him yet?”

“Doesn’t matter. There’s a chain of command and I’m still on payroll.” He stood directly in front of them, hands on his hips. Tim and Damian still rested against the ledge in a casual pose. The hired muscle looked from one bird to the other, and then past them. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward to the right of Tim.

“Is this what you kids were doing up here?” the man said, looking straight at the alley that currently still housed Dick and Jason. “What are they doing?” he asked, motioning to the men across the street.

“None of your business,” Damian said at the same time Tim said, “We don’t know.”

“Why are they sitting on the ground talking?”

“We don’t know,” Tim said again.

Damian growled.

The man kept watching and the two Robins turned back to face the alley. They watched Nightwing shake his head and place a hand on Red Hood’s shoulder while the Red Hood placed his helmeted head in his hands.

“This is weird,” the man said. “Looks like some deep adult conversation going on down there. I mean, I’ve seen the Red Hood work with you guys, but I’ve also seen him shoot at you. I’ve seen him punch Nightwing in the face,” he added. “I also know that the boss wanted Red Hood for something and some shit went down. And well. Boss ain’t here, but the Red Hood’s still out causin’ trouble. And I’ll tell you this: I’d rather deal with the Gotham nightlife than get in the middle of _that_ conversation.” He lapsed into silence, stating what all three of them felt on some level.

They continued to watch the two men. Red Hood stood up and offered out a hand to Nightwing, who clasped it and got up off the ground. (“That was gentlemanly,” the hired man commented.) They stood close to each other and then parted ways, Jason on foot and Dick to the skies. Then Tim, Damian, and the man were alone.

“You know what? Just get out of here. I’m not paid that much anyways,” the man said.

Tim and Damian immediately took off, knowing that they could’ve taken him, but that it was always better to part under friendly terms. They leapt off the building to grapple through the city, careful to use the iron rings. They flew home to the Bat Cave, images of Dick and Jay’s clandestine meeting running past their eyes, and the words of the Black Mask’s hired security echoing around them:

“That was some weird, serious conversation those two were having.”

 

* * *

 

_Go melt back in the night_

_Everything inside is made of stone_

 

Tim walked up the steps of San Francisco’s City Hall and pushed open the gilded doors into the grand, arched entryway. He took a moment to take in the sights: enormous Roman arches and a bright, spacious open landing before a central staircase. Tim moved along until he found a directory, and located the information he needed. Second floor. He made his way up the staircase, his footsteps echoing on the polished marble to the Rotunda.

He found them at the end of the second floor in a dome-topped, round room worthy of Delphi. They stood in the middle of the room, next to a Greek bust placed on a dais. Both men were dressed in suits: Dick in a black two button, with a soft gray shirt and deep blue tie; Jason in a charcoal three piece, white shirt and red tie beneath the waistcoat. A Justice of the Peace had just stepped up to them, shaking both of their hands, and making introductions.

Tim approached quietly, then cleared his throat to indicate his presence.

All three figures turned their heads in his direction, all with different looks on their faces.

The woman looked at Tim like she might help him with a question he needed to ask.

Jason’s eyes had narrowed at the intrusion.

Dick’s face showed several emotions at once: wide-eyed happiness at Tim’s presence mixed with fear that they were about to be interrupted by the big Bat.

“Tim,” Dick called out to him and Tim walked to join them. Dick held out his arms and enveloped him in a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Is this young man part of your plan?” the woman asked Jason.

“That depends,” Jason said.

Tim escaped Dick’s grip. “I’m just here for support. By myself,” Tim added.

“Richard? Todd? I need you to tell me if this is okay?”

“He’s family,” Dick said. “He can be here for this.”

“I thought I could come witness,” Tim said.

“Don’t need any witnesses.” Jason gave Tim a look that said he figured Tim knew that already.

“Can I still sign my name to it? It would mean a lot to me.”

“It’d mean a lot to us, too, Tim. Can he still sign the license?”

The woman turned to Tim and held out her hand. “Hi! I’m Justice Brown, I will be performing the marriage ceremony for Richard and Todd here. You are welcome to sign your name at the end as a witness. Witnesses are definitely welcome, they are simply not obligatory in a confidential marriage license. At the end of the ceremony, you, Tim, will sign your name. I’ll sign as the Officiate. Then I will hand this to the County Clerk’s office and it will be kept private.” She turned back to Dick and Jason. “Your own marriage license will then be ready in ten days. I’d advise you to pick up several copies while you’re there.”

“Thanks,” Dick said. “We will.”

“Is it okay if I take a couple pictures?” Tim asked.

He watched Dick and Jay look at each other and hesitate.

“For Alfred?” he added.

“Yeah,” Jason said. “For Alfred.”

“Let’s begin. Your ten minute slot started a few minutes ago.” Justice Brown opened a notebook and began to read.

Tim watched Dick and Jason, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the words Justice Brown said to them. He backed away from them to get a clear shot and pulled out his phone. He just wanted a few pictures. And they really were for Alfred’s photo albums, and also to tease Damian with. But also because, Tim didn’t know what was going on between Dick and Jason. He was going to need something tangible to examine later. He didn’t know why Jason agreed to this. It certainly wasn’t in his best interest as far as the vigilante lifestyle was concerned. Maybe he wanted to leave more of an impact on this world? Maybe Jason figured he’d live longer than Dick and he would get that life insurance. Tim didn’t know his reasons. But Tim did know what he heard Dick say to him that night in the kitchen of Wayne Manor, when Dick told him what he wanted to do. Tim heard Dick say that he wanted to make Jay family. That he wanted Jay to trust him, and to know that Dick respects him. And that Dick wanted to provide for him.

What Tim wasn’t sure of when it came to Dick was how much of this marriage was convenience. Because it didn’t sound like a whole lot.

Tim took a picture of the men. They were facing each other now, hands held loosely together in front of them, but probably due to a need to hold on to something.

“Do you, Richard, take Todd to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Tim continued to watch them, Dick looking at Jason with a slight grin, Jason giving Dick his full attention. The amount of intent that Jason showed was something that Tim had only seen on Jason’s face a few times. Tim had born witness to some of Jason’s more vulnerable times: on top of the hill where Jason had been buried; in Santa Prisca where he confessed to Tim that he didn’t think he’d been okay for awhile. Tim would witness this event too.

“And do you, Todd, take Richard to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The ceremony moved quickly. Justice Brown pronounced them married. Tim watched Dick lean forward, and Jason stand there watching Dick. And then Jason met him halfway. They sealed their union with a kiss and Tim felt his brain crash. He watched Dick and Jason, Nightwing and Red Hood, his Bat family, hold one another close and press their mouths to each other. No one was bleeding. No one had stopped breathing. This was not a post-Gotham saved-the-day comfort session. No, Dick and Jason wore matching gold bands on their fingers and were currently engaged in a not-very-chaste kiss.

Tim’s brain restarted and he focused his phone’s camera again. The kiss was over, but Tim smirked when he realized that he had gotten a shot of the two of them just after breaking away. The men were still close, staring into each other’s eyes. Jason even had a bit of a smile on his face. Tim couldn’t wait for Damian’s reaction when he showed him.

Tim signed the marriage license and handed it back to Justice Brown. She shook Tim’s hand, then gave Dick and Jason each a hug and offered her congratulations. Tim wanted to laugh, but he wasn’t sure why anymore.

“Is anyone going to change their last name?” Tim asked after Justice Brown had left. It wasn’t a serious question on Tim’s part and he was surprised when Jason answered.

“As soon as the notarized copy’s ready, I’m heading to the closest Social Security office.”

“Really?” Tim asked.

“Yeah. Todd Grayson has a nice ring to it.”

Tim looked at Jason. He was serious.

:::

The three of them walked back to the main doors that would let them pass back to the busy streets of the city. They walked down the steps and found themselves in front of a familiar large frame and scowl.

Bruce Wayne stood in front of them, arms folded in front of his chest. He took in the appearance of Dick and Jason, their suits, their rings. He gave Tim a slight glare in acknowledgment.

“How’d you get here, Tim?” Jason asked in a low voice.

“Uh, I walked. Why?”

“Right. Let’s get walking,” Jason responded.

They began to walk, Tim looking back at Bruce and Dick facing each other.

“You’re just going to leave Dick by himself to deal with him?” Tim asked.

“Yep.”

“Doesn’t that make you kind of a shitty husband?”

Jason stopped for a second to get a good look at Tim’s face and saw the challenge there. He started walking again.

“First of all, Todd Peters got married today. Don’t forget that.” Jason shook his head. Tim knew to be patient. He kept walking alongside his big brother. “Second, it’ll be better if it’s just Dickie and Bruce. It’s how it was for a long time anyways – before the rest of us came. Dick will get angry, accusatory, and then he’ll be the bigger man and say sorry. The two of them will continue with their respect for each other.”

“But don’t you want a say?”

“Nah. I’ll only get mad. And I won’t say sorry.”

Tim turned to look at Jason, and Jay offered a grin, full of his Bowery mischief that was both irritable and endearing.

They walked out of the civic center, towards the Embarcadero and the piers, heading towards the Presidio.

“You staying at Titans Tower?” Jason asked.

“Yeah. What about you guys?”

“Dick used the Titans apartment lease that he’s still on as proof of residency for the confidential license. But I don’t know. We only got here a few hours ago. What I do know is that I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” Tim said.

“Alright, Timmy. Let’s get some food.”

 

* * *

 

_You say you’re looking for someone_

_Who’ll pick you up each time you fall_

 

“I don’t understand why you would do this, Dick,” Bruce said to him.

They stood there, in front of each other, like two cowboys in a Western.

“I wanted to,” Dick said. He didn’t know what else to say.

“He’s not your responsibility. He’s mine.”

“He’s his own,” Dick countered. “We did this together.”

“No, you didn’t,” Bruce said, his eyes showing concern. “Jason Todd didn’t get married today. But Dick Grayson did. You will be held to this. He won’t.”

Dick didn’t say anything. Instead he clenched his jaw.

“Dick…if he’s in trouble…”

“He’s not.”

“Okay. But he can come to me. You can come to me. We can work something out…off the record. Away from prying eyes.”

“I know. Thanks for keeping that door open. Especially for him.”

“I don’t _want_ him to feel like an outcast.”

Dick remained quiet at that. He had both evidence for and against that statement.

“When will you be back in Gotham?” Bruce asked.

“Not sure. We’ll probably head back tonight or tomorrow and then I’ll come back out in ten days for the marriage certificate.”

“And Tim?”

“No idea. Didn’t know he would show up. I guess I should’ve figured though; the two of you are the best detectives in the world.” Dick smiled at Bruce.

They didn’t say anything for a while, instead opting to watch the people walk the streets around them.

“Well,” Dick started. “I should probably go find them. Make sure Tim’s not bleeding in a gutter somewhere.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes in angry concern.

“I’m kidding! Geez, Jay and Tim get along better than anyone. They’re fine.”

“Use the family card if you decide to stay the night,” Bruce said instead. “A gift from me to the two of you.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you back in Gotham.” Bruce turned away and started for the street to call a taxi. “And tell Jason he’s expected for dinner at the Manor. No excuses now.”

Dick looked at Bruce, saw his face wear a smile of smug victory. Dick gave a laugh, waved goodbye, and started walking in the direction he saw Jay and Tim take off.

Dick kept to the sidewalk, texting Tim for location information as he moved along the city. San Francisco was filled with white buildings that seemed to compete for sunlight with the fog and eucalyptus trees that enveloped the peninsula – so different from the beautiful, shimmering blackness of Gotham.

Dick continued to walk, following the water of the bay and listening to the sounds of seagulls and sea lions. He let the sounds keep him company, distracting him from Bruce, from what he said.

_Jason Todd didn’t get married today._

Dick walked faster, past Fisherman’s Wharf, past the Ghirardelli Chocolate building. The eucalyptus trees grew thicker. The Golden Gate Bridge loomed larger.

He found them sitting on a bench, under the shade, throwing packets of Ghirardelli chocolate squares at each other as Dick moved toward them. Tim waved and called out a hello. Jason watched Dick approach and then stood up. The two of them stood there, with some space between, Dick unsure of himself, of the two of them. But he could stand there, and look Jason in the eye, and not feel bothered by the silence.

Jason reached back for a bag on the bench and pulled out a box.

“We ended up in North Beach for lunch. Got you some pasta.” Jason pulled out a plastic fork to go with it and offered the food to Dick.

Dick looked at the take out box and then at Jason. Jason motioned for him to sit down.

“You’re hungry, right?”

“Yeah, actually. I am.” Dick sat down next to Tim, Jason joining Dick’s other side. Dick tucked in to the food, still warm and full of comfort, a gift from Jason.

“I got you the fork,” Tim stated, as if reading Dick’s mind.

Dick smiled at Tim, and leaned into Jason as his thanks.

“You okay?” Jason asked.

Dick swallowed a biteful. “I’m good.” He took another bite. “B said we could use the family card. Who wants to look up hotels in the area?”

“On it,” Tim said.

Dick felt Jason lean back into him; silent, but present.

**Author's Note:**

> First, thanks for reading! This and the other works are all un-beta'd so please forgive any mistakes.
> 
> And now, for some notes:
> 
> -Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens: about two families secretly intertwined and the two children who grow to love each other. If you're not familiar with the story, definitely give it a go. Pick up the book or watch the BBC mini-series with Claire Foy and Matthew MacFadyen.
> 
> -Roman Sionis missing is in reference to Red Hood and the Outlaws Rebirth first six or seven issues that deal with Black Mask. Volume One if you get it in trade.
> 
> -ICP = ICP-MS: Inductively-Coupled Plasma Mass Spectrometry. Used for elemental and organic analysis. But you have to take tiny samples of whatever you want analyzed and digest them in acid, different acids depending on what elements you want. Hydroflouric Acid or HF is pretty nasty stuff. If you spill a quarter sized amount onto bare skin, you're done for. It replaces the calcium in your bone structure and all you can do is prolong your life by two weeks. Tim is a science bro.
> 
> -California is the only state (besides Michigan, but their's is super hardcore) in the US to offer confidential marriages. I first stumbled across this nugget of info when I scrolled through a Mental Floss article about it. I figured since the Teen Titans are based in SF and Dick would have gone through some identity changes during those years (Red X, Nightwing), that a California confidential license would make more sense than Michigan. Sorry Michigan people!
> 
> -Tim mentions having witnessed some of Jason's more emotional moments: the hill where he was buried is a reference to _Hush_; Santa Prisca and Jason's quiet confession to Tim about being okay is from _Batman & Robin: Eternal_. Those two have some beautifully soft moments.


End file.
